Webster Art

I had trouble changing a flat on the front tire of my 1972 ten speed Sekai 3000. When I went to a bike store he said it was because the new $100 tire plus tube was meant to be tubeless. This meant that on the narrow profile rim, there was no room for the tube. To fix this problem, I’d have to get a new rim.

Problem is my hub and rim combination isn’t sold anymore. The damn bike is too old. 15 years ago I put on some adaptor blocks for the brakes to service the non spec rims that were available. To fix it this time and get it back to a normal fat rim that easily accepts a tube he would have to buy the hub and rim separate and build a wheel with spokes. Then I’d have to buy new a new front rim brake, and tube and tire. All told it would have been $400 on a scratched up antique 10 (21) speed that I’m only holding onto because I’m sentimental.

Sue and I wanted to ride the point that day, and with an unfixable bike I gave in to the inevitable and went to REI. I bought the cheapest bike they had. It wasn’t a road or a mountain bike, it was what’s called a gravel bike. It has dropped handlebars like my ten speed, but the tires are almost as thick as a mountain bike. It has 8 gears on the back and one on the front. Seems they gave up on front derailleurs. It’s an aluminum frame with no shocks.

It came with a 40 tooth single front sprocket which was a piss poor granny gear. I ordered a 31 tooth front sprocket and had to remove a few chain links but now it pedals up the hills like a good mountain bike. I love being able to sit down while pedaling up steep hills.

Sue and I went up to Quartz Camp where she climbed the right two pitch 5.9 and the 9 at middle Quartz. It was great to see her climbing again and having fun. I just got back from the men’s retreat at Dave and Fletches cabin by Crystal. It was fun jamming with semi pro’s.

Later it got quiet and I was able to play some slower melodies with just Fletch and me. We play two instrumentals that we wrote together. Once is called Bieber and the other is Brazilian Swing. Those songs are like a child we created together that only gets to breath when we meet. Our progressions are incredibly tight, note for note harmonies. Once again we didn’t find the time to record them. But hey, not everything has to be looked at afterwards. Some things exist in the moment, and that’s enough.

Sue’s mom died Tuesday 3 months short of 100. My side of the family has not been good about visiting her in the nursing home where she’s been for a couple years. As the end neared last week I went with Sue and she knew me in that way that old folks have in their last days. She and her husband were great people in the old way. They always lived nearby and were a vital part of our lives and our kids lives. But the grand river of time marches on for us all.

In the last week I came back from a 4 day trip to Squish with Terry, climbed at left Quartz with Chris, climbed at the gym and played ping pong twice. Yesterday I was doing sprints on a nearby hill in second gear. Because I have sandal toe clips I can pull and push at the same time. The bike really flies up the hill. I find that if I sprint hard enough I’m at the top before my heart even realizes it’s working too hard…almost. I hope that isn’t how Marty died. Man, I miss that guy.

We have 2 new babies in the family. The cousins Clint and little John both have 8 month olds. Births are so normal and expected, but deaths, even from extreme old age are treated so much differently. It’s a philosophical dilemma. Barb’s life at the end was not even living, and yet there she was, month after month. Sue and her brother would visit every week. Some days she was totally with it, asking questions about the grandkids, and other days Sue would come home frustrated and sure she was at death’s door. It’s a crazy old world.

There is no denying that’s in the future for us all. You can exercise, eat right and never jaywalk but the grim reaper will come for you in his own good time.

I saw an article in the Seattle Times about hunting. There were a bunch of vegans complaining. I wrote this in the comments section:

My job on the commune in Olympia in 1971 was to feed the hogs, milk the goats, and feed the rabbits. One of the rabbits was a favorite and would let me pet it. One morning I was walking up to the farm house from my tipi. I was shocked to see my favorite rabbit butchered on a pole. I was very upset, but later that evening I smelled the rabbit stew and got hungry. I travel a fair amount while climbing and the cattle feed lots along I-84 near Boise are disgusting. They go on for half a mile full of desperately haggard cattle waiting to be slaughtered. Those animals live a terrible life. I like a juicy steak as much as the next guy, but I feel bad for all the suffering of the farmed animals. Pescatarian seems like a fair compromise. It’s mostly vegetarian supplemented by fish and cheese. Hunting is an honest way to eat meat. Those animals live a good life. The meat you buy at grocery stores comes from creatures that have led terrible lives. Imagine if Martians populated Earth and decided to start farming and eating humans, because we tasted better than soybeans. That’s how the cows must look at us.